The Box in the Corner
by Oliviet
Summary: "Castle opens the flaps and is greeted with a bunch of books. He's about to push it aside as well, when the cover art from one of the novels catches his eye. These aren't just any books, they're his books. Hail of Bullets, Deadly Storm, Nikki Heat, they're all there. Every book he's ever written hidden here amongst Beckett's things." Contains a spoiler from Heat Rises.


Last Christmas had been their first Christmas together so they had decided not to exchange gifts. But this year was different. They were engaged and living together this year and Castle just wanted everything to be perfect. So naturally, he freaked out seeing as how she got him a murder mystery straight from a Hitchcock film for his birthday. He just needed to know what she was getting him so he would know if his gift for her stacked up. He refused to be outgifted.

He told himself these were good enough intentions to go creeping through her things to try to find his present. He starts going through her drawers and coat pockets, but comes up empty. But then his eyes land on a small stack of boxes she has yet to unpack after moving into the loft. Castle determines it to be an excellent hiding spot and moves to open the first box. Inside is nothing but dishes.

"Guess the word 'kitchen' should have given it away," he mutters, noticing her handwriting scrawled across the top.

He pushes it aside, and pulls the next box toward him. It's filled with odds and ends from around her apartment that had served as decorations; knick knacks that have yet to be integrated into their home. The next box is heavy and he grins as he pulls it toward himself. He has a good feeling about this one.

Castle opens the flaps and is greeted with a bunch of books. He's about to push it aside as well, when the cover art from one of the novels catches his eye. These aren't just any books, they're _his_ books._ Hail of Bullets, Deadly Storm, Nikki Heat_, they're all there. Every book he's ever written hidden here amongst Beckett's things.

He picks up _Heat Rises_ and flips through the pages, stopping on the section where Rook gets shot. The pages look like someone sprinkled water on them. It doesn't take him long to realize that those are tear stains. This book came out the summer after she was shot. That summer when she shut him out for three months only to randomly appear at one of his book signings. He realizes then that they have never talked about this book or any of them for that matter. But this one, _Heat Rises_, is different. She had read this, knowing that he loved her. She had read this, this tale of her shooting with him being the one getting shot, as she tried to heal and recover from her PTSD. What had he been thinking in writing this with everything she had going on? But then he remembers that she had shut him out, and Nikki was the closest thing he had to her.

Castle puts _Heat Rises _down and picks of _Hail of Bullets_. He hates this book. It's terrible in comparison to what he write these days and wonders if she bought this merely to make fun of him. But when he picks it up he notices the weathered spine and the coffee stained pages. This book has been well loved and read several times over. He tells himself that she probably got it at a used bookstore, but he's not entirely convinced.

He pulls _Deadly Storm _out of the pile and opens the front cover of the hardback. Staring back at him is his signature.

"Dear Kate, thank you for everything you do," he reads aloud.

What does that even mean? Maybe she told him she was a cop? Or was this some weird twisted way of him hitting on her?

Castle pulls out every book in the box, all his like he suspected, and flips through them. He's signed several of them. He can't get over the fact that he's met Beckett at least three times before someone decided to go and copy his book murders. But even more so, he can't get over how much of a fan she was…is? He remembers the boys teasing her in the beginning about him working with her on cases and he also vaguely recalls her mentioning something once that was only revealed to his online fan club. He knew she read his books, but he had no idea it was to this extent.

He's so engrossed with his findings that he doesn't even hear her when she comes home. She walks into their bedroom, and pulls off her boots in the doorway, watching him. She sees her copies of his books scattered around the floor and _Heat Wave_ in his hands. This was a conversation she wasn't ready for when she came home today.

"Hey," she says softly, moving to sit on the floor beside him.

He turns to look at her, his eyes full of questions and wonder. "So uh, is Richard Castle your favorite author or something?"

She sighs, picking one of his early books up and turning it over in her hands. "It's a long story."

He nods once, his expression losing some of the merriment that was there seconds ago. "I figured." He starts to put the books back into the box. "There's no way these are your coffee stains, no matter how much you love coffee."

She puts her hands over his, stopping him, and takes _Hail of Bullets_ from his hands. "I was late for work, and I only had one chapter left, hence the coffee stain. And I don't even know why I was so anxious to finish it. I mean it's not like I hadn't read it before."

"You mean, you read that piece of crap more than once?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Castle. It's good."

He opens _Deadly Storm _back up and points to his signature. "Why did I write this?"

Kate smiles. "You asked me if I was a model. I told you that I was a cop. You were pretty impressed by that for whatever reason, so you wrote that."

Castle groans. "I was worried it was a result of me trying to hit on you."

"Oh you hit on me at every book signing I ever attended."

He groans again. "I did?"

She nudges him with her shoulder. "Don't worry, Castle, you finally got me."

He laughs at that, taking her left hand in his and running his thumb over the band of her engagement ring. "I did indeed. So why haven't you told me that you're a mega fan of my work? Oh! Got any getups like from Nebula 9? Only without the creepy masks…"

"Just the Nikki Heat wardrobe collection," she tells him rolling her eyes. "But only because I _am _Nikki Heat."

"Wow, you really are obsessed if you actually think you're a fictional character that I created."

Kate punches him in the arm and starts to stand up. "This is why I don't tell you things."

"No, no I'm sorry, stay," he begs, pulling on her arm. "I'll be good, I promise."

She sits back down, gathering a small pile of his early work in her lap. "My mother gave me these. She and I generally had the same taste in books, so she thought I'd like these too. But I put off reading them because I was too busy or was reading something else or whatever. I always seemed to find something better do to, but they just kept staring at me from my dresser. The day of her funeral I picked one up and just started reading it. My dad had to practically drag me away from my room. I'm not sure if I got so attached to them because I actually liked them or if it was because they reminded me of her. Either way, I couldn't have gotten through her murder without them. So thank you."

Castle wraps her up in his arms, the pile of books in her lap tumbling to the floor. "I always knew I would have liked your mother."

She smiles. "If she only knew that I was marrying one of her favorite authors."

"It's crazy isn't it? How long I've been mixed up with this investigation in whatever form…it's like I've been there since the beginning without even realizing it."

"You have been," she agrees, turning to kiss his cheek. "You helped me get through it then. And you help me get through it now. Every day."

He hums, his fingers skimming over her lower back. "Can I ask you something?"

She nods, straightening the collar of his shirt. Castle reaches across her and picks up _Heat Rises_. He flips back to the tear-stained section he found earlier and holds it out to her.

"We've never talked about this," he tells her.

"Is there a question in there somewhere?"

"That summer," he starts, waving the book around. "We've never talked about it."

"Still not hearing a question."

"Did you read this right when it came out?"

Kate takes the book from him, casually flipping through the pages. "I _bought_ it when it first came out."

"Why did you buy it? I would have –"

"We weren't exactly speaking that summer," she cuts him off, her eyes darting to the floor.

"And whose fault is that?" He can hear the bitterness in his tone the moment he says it and instantly wishes he could take it back. He's not still mad about that summer. He really isn't. But the thought of it brings the feelings with it.

"It was hard for me, okay? Knowing that you were in love with me and then reading this? Reading myself being on the other side of that bullet and you getting shot? I know that we're not really Nikki and Rook, but you can't deny that whatever happens to us parallels them. I was, you know, going to therapy to try to get over it and then this scene shows up in this book. I was going to call you to yell at you when I read it, but I couldn't do that without admitting to myself how I really felt about you. And I just wasn't ready for that yet."

"I didn't write it to upset you or to force you into feeling something, you have to know that. I wrote it because I was going crazy. You almost died and then you shut me out of your life. And I just kept thinking if I had noticed that sniper sooner I could have saved you. I was blaming myself for all the wrong reasons. So I had Rook get shot not only to see what it would do to Nikki but to see what it would feel like to be in your shoes."

Kate buries her head in the crook of his neck. She wraps her arms around him and presses herself into his side. Castle brushes her hair off of her shoulder.

"The _Nikki Heat_ series is our love story," he says softly.

"I know it is."

Castle rests his head on top of hers, looking around at his books scattered over the floor. "Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"If you hadn't been such a fan of my books, would we still be sitting here on the floor together?"

She hums thinking about it. "Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Someone still would have decided to copycat your book murders. I probably still would have caught the case. You would have continued to annoy the crap out of me until that one day I no longer found you annoying. The books just…I don't know, add another layer to our relationship."

"I love that you love my books," he tells her, dipping his head to place a kiss on her temple. "And that you love me."

"I do," she nods. "I really do."

"Really do what? Love me or my books?"

She laughs. "Both."

He draws her chin up to his and kisses her. She tastes like peppermint, probably from that stash she keeps in her desk.

"I must confess I found these while looking for my Christmas present," he says, when he pulls away.

"And did you find it?"

"No. But I found something even better."


End file.
